


Someone Like Him

by cowboykylux



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: 1970s, Date Night Gets Canceled, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Married Couple, Married Life, Movie Night, Snowed In, Tenderness, or does it?, stuck inside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23234671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: 'If there was one thing true more than anything else about all the reasons you loved him, it was that once your husband had his heart set on something, he was going to accomplish it.'Or, a sudden snow-storm cancels your plans for a date, and Flip Zimmerman decides that nothing, not even snow, will get in the way of treating you to something special.
Relationships: Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You
Comments: 15
Kudos: 52
Collections: Lock Down Fest





	Someone Like Him

If there was one thing true more than anything else about all the reasons you loved him, it was that once your husband had his heart set on something, he was going to accomplish it.

You knew this of course, having been by Flip’s side for so long, but sometimes…well some times it was far more evident than others. Sometimes he displayed such a creative streak of ingenuity, that you wondered just what the extent of that quick-thinking capability was, if there was even a limit to it at all.

The house was completely snowed in. A freak blizzard at the end of March rendering all your plans for the evening useless, namely an early showing at the cinema and lunch from your favorite diner, now all closed from the unexpected weather. Some Fridays, Flip liked to take you out on the kind of dates you shared way back in the early days, the days where he was still too shy to ask to hold your hand.

Now though, now you’ve been together for so long that he takes your hand in his own with ease, palms only a little sweaty. He still takes you on these dates, because he’s a sentimental man, but also because he’s a firm believer that that honeymoon phase never has to end. You agreed.

_Get dolled up anyway,_ Flip had said when the two of you woke up to darkened rooms and a muffled soundscape that morning courtesy of 60 inches of snow, _Don’t come downstairs, I’ve got an idea._

That had been hours ago, as noon was now quickly approaching. As the morning had progressed, there were all sorts of sounds of scuffling coming from the downstairs spaces. The kitchen clunked and clanged, furniture dragged against the carpeted floors in the living room, and while you were upstairs debating which string of pearls to wear, you could hear him swearing and cursing up a storm.

You offered the occasional, _honey are you alright?_ To which he replied with a hasty, _yeah ketsl don’t come down yet!_

But now as noon was on the horizon, the usual time that you and Flip would leave the house for a matinee and milkshake, those noises were coming to an end.

In fact, very soon the only noise was that of a knock on the bedroom door.

“Who is it?” You call pretending to be your mother, like you were a teenager again and Flip was picking you up in his dad’s ’58 oldsmobile.

“Philip Zimmerman ma’am, is (Y/N) home?” Flip asks from the other side of the closed door. You could hear the smile in his voice, could hear how pleased he was that you were playing along.

“She might be.” You respond with a cheeky sort of faux-apprehension, as if you might make things difficult for him.

“Might she be free to spend the day with me? I’ll have her home before dark, honest.” Flip sounds nothing like his younger self, his voice far too deep and resonant, far too confident.

But as you brush a final lock of hair into place and you stand from your vanity, opening the door to reveal your handsome husband makes you nearly emotional, memories of those early dates rushing back to your mind as he stands there with a bouqet of flowers he stole from one of the vases in the dining room.

You grin as he hands it to you, stems still a little wet from the water they had been sitting in, and you take them happily, closing the bedroom door behind you, pressing yourself up against him in the hallway.

“You can keep me as long as you’d like.” You whisper, looking up at him through your lashes as you take a sniff of the beautiful tulips he had presented you.

“I know, but it’s only polite.” He leans in to softly kiss your cheek, a chaste kiss that reminds you very much of how he used to be so worried your family would scold him if he did anything more…salacious while they could potentially see.

“What are you planning, Mr. Zimmerman?” You ask, both a playful continuance of this little game of pretend, but also genuine curiosity at what the hell he’d been up to this whole time.

“I promised my girl a movie and a bite to eat, and that’s what I intend to give her.” He offers you his arm, and you waste no time in linking your through it.

When he leads you down the stairs, your eyebrows shoot up in an impressed excitement. He really was so creative when he needed to be, wasn’t he? You think to yourself as the living room comes into full view.

He had converted it somehow into a movie theater. Flip had rearranged the couches so that there was a free wall, which he had positioned the loveseat in front of so that the two of you could snuggle up and watch something together. The curtains are all closed, not that it does much as snow covers all the windows, making the room nearly pitch black.

Or at least it would be pitch black, if not for the tea-candles that he had lit in a long aisle, to create something like the strips of lighting in theaters that were used to illuminate the rows of seats.

But the most impressive part to you out of all of this, was the proper film projector that was positioned just behind the loveseat.

“Honey where did you get this?” You ask, setting the flowers back down in the vase Flip had taken them from. You’d never seen this in the house before, and you spent all day every day here! How had he managed to hide it from you?

“One of the guys at the station was getting rid of it yesterday right after work because he said it took up too much space, I thought I’d rescue it from a life at the junkyard – it’s in perfect fuckin’ condition can you believe he wanted to dump it?” Flip shakes his head, as he lit a cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke.

The smoke caught in the beams of light from the projector as Flip turned the machine on, and you grinned when you saw that he had figured out the distance for it to perfectly fill the large wall. 

“Sure beats turning on the TV, huh?” You tease, so fond of your husband, fond of the way he can see the potential in everything.

“Look I’ve even got some reels.” Flip hoists up a big metal cannister, before turning to you and presenting you with, “Does the young lady want…Top Hat? Or…Top Hat?”

“Hmm, two tickets for Top Hat please.” You take your time deliberating this very difficult choice, and when you give him your answer Flip nods and _hmms_ in agreement, like you made the right one.

“Alright, that’ll be one kiss.” He informs you, and you frown with mock disappointment.

“Only one?” You pout.

But Flip nods anyway, and he sucks down one more puff of his cigarette before setting the cannister down and pulling you into an embrace. He blows smoke out of his nose like he’s some great dragon, and you wind your arms around his broad shoulders, plucking the Camel out from between his teeth and pulling him down for a kiss by the light of the projector.

Your mouth parts for his tongue easily, happily, and you sigh against his lips when they smile against you. He tastes like nicotine and love, and you almost don’t realize how starved you were for his kisses with him being busy all morning, until you’ve got him in your arms once again.

He caresses you while you breathe against each other, while your lips take their fill of one another. One of his hands smooths down your body and clings to the small of your back, the other cupping the nape of your neck and holding you close close close. You smile, and he smiles, smiles so wide that it’s hard to keep kissing him after a while, because you’re chuckling against his lips and his nose keeps nudging yours slightly from silent shakes of his own happiness.

“Keep the change.” You whisper when you finally pull away, the both of you breathing heavy, your eyes closed as you press your foreheads together.

“Could you pop some popcorn?” Flip asks in the quiet of the living room, making you crack up just from the sudden change in mood, and soon he’s laughing too, explaining, “I didn’t want to set the fuckin’ kitchen on fire.”

“Again.” You wink at him, handing him back his cigarette which he happily takes another drag from as he follows you into the kitchen.

“Watch it ketsl.” He gives your ass a little pat and you shimmy your hips at the stove, putting on the Jiffy Pop.

When the silver bag has all but nearly burst and the projector is playing the soft image of Ginger Rogers and Frank Sinatra, you and your husband curl up on the loveseat. Occasionally, you reach into the bag at the same time, your fingers brushing up against one another. You playfully fight each other for the popcorn, which ends in Flip gently tossing kernels of the buttered snack into your mouth, occasionally missing your mouth and hitting your face on purpose just to get you laughing.

You’ve seen this movie probably a hundred times, but it was always one you kept coming back to. The quick wit had you laughing, the songs had you humming, and the music, well.

“Dance with me?” You look up with wide hopeful eyes at your husband, when the orchestra strikes up once again as Fred and Ginger launch into a choreography that you could only dream of following one day.

He indulges you with a shake of his head and sigh, and a, “As long as you don’t step on my toes.”

You scoff and roll your eyes dramatically as he offers you a hand which you gladly take, let yourself be pulled against him like a magnet. You waltz around the living room to the tune of _Cheek to Cheek_ , and Flip even twirls you once or twice, making you perfectly pleasantly dizzy.

“I’m not the one in size-13’s.” You teased with a big fond grin, and that seemed to be the proverbial last straw for Flip because suddenly he was attacking your face with chaste kisses, tickling you with his goatee which you had trimmed just the night before.

“You’re terrible to me, you know that?” He shakes his head sternly as he continues to kiss your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your neck, “Awful. Absolutely horrible. The worst. I adore you.”

He catches your lips in his once more, kisses you slowly, deeply, passionately. He keeps kissing you even as the song has come to an end, cups your cheeks in both his hands – mindful of the cigarette clamped between his fingers – and rubs soothing little motions with his thumbs that follow the curve of your eye-socket.

He is so tender with you, so tender always. He’s a big man – 6’3” and sometimes seemingly just as wide – a strong man, a man who could crush your skull with ease if he wanted to. But he never wanted to, never wanted to be anything other than tender with you, and it made your heart so full that you almost could cry.

“Are you thirsty?” He asks, when the kiss ends.

You nod, because yes you are, all that popcorn had turned you parched.

With the movie still playing in the background, Flip brings you to the dining room, where he then retrieves a milkshake in a tall glass from the kitchen. He places it in front of you and sticks in two straws, just the way you always drink it – one for him and one for you. He even covered the whole top with whipped cream and maraschino cherries, just for you.

You watch the movie from the dining room, resting your head on his shoulder in between sips of the shake, holding hands under the table like someone could come in and reprimand you at any moment.

“Flip?” You ask, interrupting the great gondola heist scene.

“Hm?” Flip responds, turning to look at you with soft eyes.

“Thank you.” You bring his hand up for a kiss, a warm soft press of your lips against the scarred back of his palm.

“Anything for my girl.” He says with so much conviction that you believe him, you really really really do.

“Anything?” You say anyway, a little suggestively, suggestively enough that he knows exactly what you mean.

You and Flip simply look at one another for a moment, before he makes the quick decision to run into the living room and turn the projector off. You hurry after him, and he gives you space to go up the stairs first before he follows, pinching and grabbing at you in that playful loving way that only makes you laugh and yelp and get to your bedroom faster.

The snow outside may have canceled your plans for the day and forced you both to stay inside, but it didn’t matter so much. Not when you were stuck inside with someone so wonderful, so loving, so caring, so creative and funny and smart and sarcastic and handsome like him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you're all staying safe, sane, and as healthy as possible. I thought I would help bolster everyone's spirits a little by writing some ultra-soft and sweet fluff for us all to enjoy. I'm sending everyone my love, thank you for reading!


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